Almost burst into tears:
You can just picture it: cold, gusts of wind, and pouring rain. Wandering down the street all alone is the cultural figure Sergei Roldugin, clutching to his chest a battered little briefcase with two billion dollars in it. The icy wind cuts Sergei to the bone. He shivers and wraps himself tighter in his thin little coat. He searches the faces of passersby, hoping to catch a glimmer of sympathy in their eyes. At best, people don’t notice him; and those who do notice him turn away in disgust, muttering something insulting under their breath.
Sergei Roldugin feels awful and alone. He is defenseless.
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